betweentheearth | You Did a Light Show Before Your Time [Open]

You Did a Light Show Before Your Time [Open]

Who: Open to everyone who evacuated Willow Ridge in Locke City! Also open to anyone who would drop by later on.
What: The evacuation was successful, and now a certain group of Numbered is homeless, jobless, and driftless.
Where: Misa's apartment in Tokyo
When: Backdated to after the invasion and destruction in Locke
Warnings: Probable swearing and emotional stuff

Months of intensive labor, electronic compilation and building a close-knit community are all buried in seconds as the refugees, led by Tony Sparado, make their way through the Ghost Zone. The Numbered among them are practically clung to by the non-reincarnates out of fear of being left behind or lost in the strange dimension. By the time they emerge on the other side in the damaged but standing city of Tokyo, the gravity of the situation starts to saturate the survivors in earnest. They have nothing but what they could carry with them, and as their group diffuses and drifts apart in the crowded streets, one band in particular sticks together. With the help of some coordinated efforts courtesy of Shou's people, they head in the direction of a place where they are guaranteed refuge: Misa Amane's apartment. When it's in view, they're relieved to see that the building is in significantly better shape than much of what they've passed, and certainly the demolished Willow Ridge.

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The evacuation had been difficult in more ways than one for Lazarus Lawliet. Keeping a group of panicking individuals calm and dealing with every new nerve-wracking development had been demanding enough, but a part of him hadn't wanted to leave. He'd poured so much of himself into that school that he felt he belonged there, even if he was buried under tons of concrete with Project Jump and all his computers. It felt right, even poetic, and it was only after realizing that the thought of asking anyone else to go down so extremely with their ship was appalling that he eliminated it as an option.

For the most part, he doesn't regret leaving the basement, but it is daunting as hell to be here in Misa's apartment sitting on his double wide air mattress looking over his sparse belongings. He'd grabbed a few survival items and a change of clothes, and had prioritized his medications, but he has a little less than a month's supply remaining, and he's pretty sure that his records are decimated along with his psychiatrist's office (and potentially, his psychiatrist.)

He's started from nothing before, but he doesn't remember it feeling quite this daunting. In a little while he knows that he has to find access to a computer and try to resume some sort of connection to the effort at large, but for now, he needs a few seconds to reflect on his losses and the challenges ahead.

Nathan had stumbled a bit when they'd first started to flee. Pulses in and of themselves had ceased to do that to him anymore, but this one had been a bit different; the sudden weight of what had turned out to be riot gear of all things had tripped him up a little. It's still heavy even after that. But he can move. And he keeps it on even as they drift through the streets of Tokyo.

It's been a struggle to keep his breathing under control this whole time, to keep from outright panic. Getting to Misa's apartment helps a little. It's some semblance of safety, but even with that, it's a place that he can reflect upon how close they'd all come to being crushed to death. They'd barely made it out. Another few minutes, and . . .

No. Stop it.

The riot gear is sitting in the corner beside him. He'd gotten out of that as soon as it had been feasible. Later, he'll wonder about why he's gotten it, but that isn't his concern now. He should be worrying about the invasion, still. And he is. But he can't go back to trying to monitor things just yet. He needs as much of a break as he can give himself, selfish as that may be. And that break comes in the form of sitting on the floor, fidgeting with the toy robot in his lap. Yes, he'd brought the toys. They'd been on-hand, gathering them as they'd waited for help had not added extra time.

And they help keep him calm now. He needs that. Needs it very badly.

The riot gear had been a surprise, but not an unpleasant one. Lazarus is the last to begrudge anything that could keep Nathan safe; having no siblings or children, the white-haired young man has joined Tony in being some kind of strange ambiguous surrogate, and the corresponding reactions and instincts are troublingly intense at times. He stays close to both young men until they're at the apartment and he's comfortable enough to spend some time decompressing alone, but it isn't long before he seeks out Nathan, who is doing much the same thing.

Just with more toys and fewer cans of Lysol.

"You know, we... really need to get back to Mission Control, at some point. I've got a desktop and some notebooks rigged together and I've commandeered Misa's television, but... that doesn't mean immediately. Take as much time as you need to be truly ready."

He doesn't look up. Not for any particular reason, really. He simply doesn't feel like it.

"I know." He nods, keeps fidgeting. They truly should, and he knows it. The battle is still going on and the fighters among them still need information, updates. Or perhaps just be reassured that the weakest of their number are still safe.

Nathan just wants all of it to stop. This whole mess, all the death, all the violence. It may be too optimistic. Maybe not. He doesn't know. He'd relayed Miss Young's information to everyone, tried to organize those who wished to go speak with the Boy. Whether that comes to anything or not is out of his hands. Everything is out of his hands now, isn't it?

Lazarus knows Nathan well enough by now to be used to his particular idiosyncracies, and he isn't affronted by the young man's failure to visually acknowledge his words. He's aware that he's being heard, and that's more than enough.

It's more than he's gotten from people for much of his life, as a matter of fact.

He pauses for a moment, and then sinks into a crouch nearby, hugging his knees. "I brought what I could that I echoed back, too. It felt wrong to leave those pieces of this puzzle behind. Too bad the helicopter wouldn't fit in my backpack..."

A joke. Maybe a poor one, but it's at least an attempt.

He wants to smile at the joke, he truly does. Not because it's funny, but because it might be reassuring. He cannot, however. It just isn't in him right now.

"I hadn't realized it at first. The sudden interest in playing . . . it was an Echo. It explains why I've been getting toys from them as well." His first assumption had been that the toys had been sentimental objects from his Other's childhood. A perfectly reasonable and valid thing to think. But after all this, he is rather certain it isn't the case.

Are they avoiding a real topic? Nathan isn't sure. He is generally just saying the first things that come to mind.

If there's a cautious, hopeful ghost of a smile on Lazarus' lips, it fades away when Nathan doesn't outwordly respond to his attempt. Lazarus is a fast learner, and for better or worse, there probably won't be many such attempts in the future.

"Some of them aren't particularly sudden," he admits. "But... forgive me for pointing this out so directly, but my impression isn't really that you're playing so much as... organizing? Mapping? It's not quite the same as a child's pastime."

If they're avoiding the topic, it's a path that Lazarus feels he can settle into for a time.

He would feel awful if he knew that; the last thing Nathan ever wants to do is make anyone feel bad. It's just difficult finding anything light to say or do in this situation. Maybe it's what he should be doing, but he can't; he doesn't know how.

"It got lost amid another one the first time I came here." It had taken talking to Tony to realize what had happened. There had been such concern over the possibility that he'd been having a mental breakdown . . . and then it had turned out to be something else entirely. "... Perhaps."

He'd gone through very specific motions with the toys while citing the increasing frequency of Echo boundaries opening, movements that had correlated to what he'd been saying. He hadn't even done that consciously. It was just natural.

Lazarus is patient with such personality hiccups. He's hardly in a place not to be with all of his various quirks and idiosyncracies, and fortunately he's able to recognize this. He hopes that even if he was perfect in every way, the man he always held up as ideal and strove fruitlessly toward for years, he would still understand, but he wonders if much of his acceptance of Nathan is simply because they are so similar to one another.

"You sound a lot more certain than 'perhaps,'" Lazarus prods cautiously. It's hard to tell sometimes if Nathan is being... Nathan, or if he's weary of talking and just wants to be left alone. It's a situation where Nathan is poor at showing it, and Lazarus is just as poor at reading it, leading to a situation where both parties are pretty blind. It would lead to frustration quickly if they weren't both so patient.

Misa has been a wreck ever since disconnecting from Lazarus, biting her nails and pacing while praying that it wasn't their last conversation, and that half the friends she has made over the past several months are not about to die. The world is still falling apart around her, even as the kappa protects Tokyo from much of the damage, but her mind is entirely with Willow Ridge. Misa doesn't know the whereabouts of many others, and she will worry about fret about them as soon as she has the time, but for now she knows both that her friends are trapped in a collapsing building and that they are refusing to take the easy way out. That's more than enough to occupy her thoughts.

By the time the refugees arrive she has dutifully cleared out the abandoned apartments, leaving enough room for those who made it to put down their sparse belongings and rest. Misa watches in a daze as they flood in, and begins running forward the moment that she sees a familiar face. All her friends, indeed all her acquaintances are about to be hit head-on with a barrage of affection. Lazarus is her first victim, receiving a forceful hug and a kiss on the lips.

[Nathan isn't so tired that he does not notice the reception Lazarus gets. But he is tired enough to not particularly react to it. Not that anyone would be able to tell, considering the helmet that had just appeared on him during their flight. He might not have been recognizable at all save for his very diminutive stature and the backpack that he's carried with him ever since he'd Pulsed back his fondness for toys.

[The important thing, anyway, is that everyone is okay. Relatively speaking. He hangs back a little, not wanting to get in the way of anything even now. ~~Nathan, this will not save you.~~]

[Once Misa has disentangled herself from Lazarus, Nathan is the second person she sets her eyes on. She can't see his face, of course, but she knows that he was with the group and doesn't see him anywhere else; plus, the stature matches. She skips over and pulls his helmet off, just to be sure.]

There you are!

[Guess who's getting a kiss on the top of their head? It's you.]

[He startles a bit when she skips over to him, ducks his head instinctively when she removes the helmet. Not that he isn't glad to have it off, honestly; it's terribly heavy and running in this gear has been difficult.

[And then he squirms out from under the forehead kiss. Just . . . what? He is nowhere near accustomed to physical affection and he instinctively shies away from it. Though things have been better recently, he still too strongly associates physical contact with pain.] Ah, that's . . . not necessary.

[Misa giggles at his reaction, reaching to lightly pinch Nathan's cheek as if he was a child.]

I'm so glad you're okay! You all had me worried.

[No, sorry. No cheek-pinching is happening; he backs off from that, too. This from a person who had stayed in a collapsing building.]

It's fine. Everyone made it out.

[Misa pouts when Nathan dodges out of her reach once again, but she crosses her arms over her chest rather than making another grab for him.]

That's a relief. Do I get a hug from you or not?

[He ducks his head again. Is this really so bad? He isn't trying to hurt feelings, here.]

... I suppose if you really need to, it may be alright. [Yes, there's a hesitance in his voice. And no, he isn't going to initiate it himself. But if she tries it now, he won't stop her. He'd just like this awkwardness to be over, please.]

How kind of you.

[Misa opens her arms to him expectantly, waiting for him to hug her. When it becomes clear that he is going to do no such thing, she sighs and gives him a quick, hopefully painless hug.]

That wasn't so bad, was it?

[Sorry, Misa. Nathan is still a long way from ever initiating such a thing. That he's allowing it to happen is the level of progress you have to live with right now.

[He's quite unused to hugs, the usual comforting gestures he's allowed lately merely been pats on his shoulder. Fortunately, he has presence of mind enough not to squirm; he's been making her feel bad enough already. But he honestly is a little glad when it's over.]

I suppose not.

[She ruffles his hair, fondly but tiredly.]

See? Baby steps.

[Misa takes a step back from him, allowing some room to breathe.]

You probably want to get all that gear off, huh? I've cleared out some spare rooms. A lot of people left.

[After being hugged, a hair-ruffle isn't so bad, even if it vaguely makes him feel about ten years old. It isn't like he's bothered to comb it in days, anyway.]

Ah, yes, thank you. It's a bit difficult to move in. I hope they've managed to get somewhere relatively safe.

Yeah... me too.

[It's perfectly possible that they did; Japan wasn't hit that hard, after all. But there have still been plenty of casualties.]

A lot of them probably had family in the country. I bet it's not as bad out there.

Everyone's been experiencing their share of wreckage, whether literally or emotionally. It was tough getting here, what with the world falling apart and everything, and obviously Lazarus' labor of love collapsing on itself was a shock and a blow. He's got nothing but the clothes on his back, the things he left at Misa's the last time he was staying in Japan, and a backpack full of items he considered essential enough to flee his school with. He arrives pale, exhausted and somber, but when Misa rushes him, flings her arms around him in a crushing embrace and mashes her lips against his, it requires a change in speeds more extreme than he can readily accommodate.

The result is a frozen, stiff, wide-eyed reaction, but he checks himself before attempting to withdraw. It's hardly the most insane and inappropriate thing that's happened today, so he takes it in stride, returning the hug if not the kiss.

"Didn't I say we'd be along soon? No one died. Best news in awhile, isn't it?"

That was inappropriate.

The thought floods her mind as soon as Lazarus has pulled back from the kiss, and Misa prays that Cesar is not among the refugee group. Even without factoring his boyfriend into things, frozen shock is exactly the reaction that she expected to get from Lazarus. It's him hugging her back that is a surprise, and suddenly it's Misa's turn to pull a wide-eyed reaction; though she does handle it with a bit more grace.

"You said that," she agrees, squeezing him again before pulling back to look at his face. "Everyone's okay?"

Cesar is among the refugee group. Maybe he at least didn't see. If he did... maybe he can at least understand, given that he's the person who ultimately helped Lazarus do just that in the first place in regards to Misa. He is aware of her feelings because he decoded them first.

Friends means that hugs are OK, though, and especially after what just happened, Lazarus is not withholding that kind of affection from a friend... even if that friend said she loved him and acted accordingly.

"No one died..." he repeats after she's pulled away. "There were a few scratches and bruises..." some of which are on his own face. He clears his throat. "Not that that can't change. I need to get to a computer, do you have one I can use? A TV too if you can spare it."

Whether Cesar saw or not, Misa has not yet spotted him and for the moment she remains blissfully ignorant of his presence.

"It doesn't look so bad," she says, moving her hand up to hover a centimeter away from his face. The damage seems superficial, though that might not be the case for everyone. She drops her hand before answering his question.

"I have my laptop and the TV in my room, but last time I checked the cable and internet were down. I don't know how useful they'll be."

Lazarus is also not quite sure if Cesar saw or not, but he's more than ready to defend her emotionally volatile nature and especially her current state. He's positive it'll be OK. That being said, if he didn't see, there's absolutely no reason he has to be told about it...

His gaze is steady and patient when she reaches for his face, which is slightly battered but certainly not seriously. "Is that so? I'm glad to hear," he responds, but already his attention seems to be turning in earnest toward what he can do to help the other Numbered.

"It might have to be a Network connection, then... what about a radio? Even a very simple or small one is better than nothing."

Misa makes a face at the mention of a radio. What is this, the 60s?

"I don't have- oh! The car radio! Will that work?"

Giving it a second of quick thought, Lazarus gives a brisk nod.

"Yeah... it's better than nothing. Where is the car, and is it in a relatively safe location?"

"It should be in the garage," she answers, trying to remember where she last stashed the keys. Hopefully the car hasn't been lost to looters desperate for a way out of the city. "I don't know if it's safe, but the keys are upstairs.

Whether or not it's safe doesn't seem to matter to Lazarus; he's already starting toward the staircase.

"I'll need some tools too," he calls down as he starts rifling through her things. "Two screwdrivers of different relatively standard sizes, for starters and hopefully finishers..."

Tony is one of the last to filter in, herding the rest of the refugees ahead of him as promised while hanging back to ensure that they had plenty of coverage and guard. Shou's men had helped to guard and lead the way through the wrecked city.

As promised all are returned, safe and sound if a little shaken. The Ghost Zone definitely isn't a place to play especially if you're not numbered, but thankfully Tony had done some navigating with Nat and Feivel. Man, had he known it was going to come in so handy he would have done it a long time ago.

Having hung back so long he missed the initial barrage of Misa affection, and has absolutely no idea what might be in store for him.

Edited 2015-07-06 04:26 (UTC)

"There you are!" Misa calls the second she catches sight of him, launching herself at Tony and clinging tightly. Thankfully she is no more capable of toppling him over than the breeze. "I was getting worried!"

Tony squawks in surprise, freezing in place when he suddenly has a Misa clinging to him. Good thing he is strong and not particularly easy to throw off balance, or they could have gone toppling over.

"What, I told you I'd get 'em here safe!"

Not that, dummy.

"But I didn't see you with them!" Misa objects. True, someone had to be getting everyone through the ghost zone, but she is relieved to see Tony in the flesh none the less. She hugs him even tighter and rises onto her tip-toes to plant a kiss on his cheek.

"I was worried, okay?"

"Well I was just..." Well, honestly, it was obvious what he was doing. Keeping his word and making certain everyone else had made it back okay. Tony had always regarded his own life as disposable, so long as he could protect those he cares for. The kiss and the persistent hug get a rather vibrant blush from him and he just stammers some words that don't make any sense at all.

"I, er, well... s-sorry." Ahahaha ohgod he can't hide the blushing Misa stahp.

Misa giggles at his reaction, giving him one last squeeze before relenting and backing off a step. "You'd better be. Thank you so much, for getting everyone back here."

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You Did a Light Show Before Your Time [Open]

Lazarus and OPEN

Nathan and Open

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Misa Amane | Open to refugees

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ten years late with starbucks

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